


Beloved

by ami_ven



Series: On the Run [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU from Season 1, Alternate Universe, Community: mcsheplets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team trades labor for new furniture, but a local custom gets John something even better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "mcsheplets" prompt #032 "bed"

John dropped another armload of the weirdly-red grain that looked sort of like wheat into the wagon, then took a moment to stretch out the protesting muscles of his back. He was going to be sore tomorrow, definitely, but it was worth it. In exchange for the manual labor of bringing in the harvest, the carpenters on Elnor were trading them real, solid furniture for their abandoned-Ancient-outpost home— a kitchen table and four chairs, a set of smaller tables and stools, and most important, big sturdy _real_ beds.

The hours of cutting and hauling fields of not-quite-wheat by hand were long and tedious, especially under the hot sun, but John’s mind was only half on his work, anyway. The other half was impatiently looking forward to tumbling into bed with Rodney and staying there for several days, at least.

“That is the last of the harvest,” said Anani, one of the village girls, as Ronon dumped an even larger bundle of wheat into the wagon. She smiled at them both, then took a hesitant step toward John. “May I?”

He nodded, tiredly, and Anani grinned. She placed one hand, palm flat, over his heart and the other over her own, just like the dozen-or-so other young people had done over the past few days. He’d felt uncomfortable for the first few, but he could almost recite the words along with them now and he didn’t have to participate much, anyway.

“Let the love that shines in your heart be mirrored by my heart,” said Anani. “Let the fire of your love lend an ember to ignite my soul, that my beloved should someday be as richly blessed as your beloved.”

“Um,” said John, taking to moment to realize she’d finished. “Right, and, um, let your beloved’s heart shine back to you.”

Anani beamed. “Thank you, John!” she said, then used his shoulder for leverage to lean up and press a kiss to his cheek, before racing off to join a group of young people heading back to the village.

John watched her for a moment, until Rodney, sounding impatient, called his name. He turned, already smiling— and stopped short. Despite Rodney’s frequent protests about UV rays and melanoma, he had taken off his t-shirt and leaned over to dunk it in the irrigation duct. John watched the muscles shift in his back and shoulders as Rodney wrung his shirt out, and he shivered.

Rodney straightened, pulling his damp shirt back on, and frowned. “Sheppard,” he said, like it wasn’t the first time he had. “Are you listening? The sun must have done permanent damage to your brain. I told you to use more sunscreen— even _your_ hair can’t be expected to repel that much UV.”

“Hey—” John began, but Ronon interrupted, “Wagons are leaving. Hurry up if you don’t want to walk.”

Rodney was unusually quiet on the ride back into two, for the town elders’ speeches about the year’s harvest, and all through dinner. He was acting a little weird, too, John thought, even for him, continually glancing toward the people at the next table, including Anani and her parents, and a couple of the kids who had eagerly helped Rodney fix the irrigation system when they’d first arrived.

“Hey,” John said again, after dinner, resting his hand lightly on Rodney’s wrist. “You okay?”

Rodney jumped slightly at the contact. “What? Yes, fine, I’m fine.” He looked down at John’s hand, then back at the table of kids again. “It’s just a little stuffy in here. I need some fresh air…”

He stood, and was gone before John could stop him.

Across the table, Teyla arched an eyebrow at him. “Rodney has been watching you… most intently, for the past few days, John,” she said, and she would know— Rodney had been with her the whole time, as part of the ‘skilled’ workforce, while John and Ronon did manual labor hauling in the wheat. 

But Teyla was frowning at him, so there must have been a specific something she’d wanted him to have noticed. Rodney had been known to appreciate the view when John did ‘stereotypically macho’ things, so that wasn’t new, but on this planet…

John glanced over at the next table. All of the girls sitting there, and most of the boys, had come up to him in the past few days for their weird emotion-sharing ritual. Teyla had been there to explain it the first time, and every time after that, she’d looked pleased that he was participating in a local custom. Ronon, the smirking bastard, found it hilarious, and Rodney— usually vanished immediately when one of the kids approached John.

“Okay,” said John, slowly, looking back up at his team. “This isn’t my fault. But I’m going to go find him.”

“Good,” said Ronon.

John found Rodney sitting at the edge of the largest irrigation duct, facing the now-empty fields. 

“You didn’t listen to a thing Teyla said about this planet, did you?” he asked, by way of greeting.

Rodney whirled, looking startled, then annoyed, then nervous, then annoyed again before settling on defensively belligerent. “Primitive planets are all the same, major, it’s just color of the foods that’s different.”

“And some of the quaint local customs,” added John. He plopped down beside Rodney, close enough that their knees touched, and let out an internal sigh of relief when Rodney automatically leaned into him. “Like how the people here believe that strong emotions can be passed from person to person, and how love is the most important one.”

“They— what?” Rodney asked.

“Yeah,” said John. “And I’m so ridiculously in love with you that I’ve been asked to share with half of the village.”

“Oh,” said Rodney, softly. “You— you are? With me?”

The quiet disbelief in his voice was enough to make the last of John’s irritation disappear. For the first time since they’d left Earth, he wished they could go back, if only so he could find whoever had made Rodney doubt himself about this and make them regret it forever.

“Yes,” said John, sliding closer. “Completely, ridiculously, irrevocably in love with you.”

“Oh,” Rodney said again. “Me, too. With you, I mean.” He winced. “I really suck at this.”

“You’re doing pretty good so far…”

“I mean relationships, John. I’m arrogant and generally thoughtless, and apparently petty and jealous—”

“Like I didn’t already know that,” John interrupted, sliding even closer.

Rodney ignored him. “—and it’s only because of _my_ choices that we can never go back to Earth—”

“You _saved my life_ , I’m not exactly complaining.”

“—and we’re literally aliens to this whole galaxy, so your options are pretty limited—”

“I don’t need options, Rodney, I have you.”

“—but that’s no reason to expect what we have to be permanent—”

“And why the hell not?”

“—so it’s probably best if we start going a bit slower, you know, not get too attached to, to anything, so that when—”

“We should get married.”

There was a sudden, ringing silence.

“We should get married,” John said again, more calmly. “Here. Tonight.”

“John,” said Rodney, faintly. “I don’t think—”

“The entire time we’ve been on this planet, the only thing I’ve been able to think about is you and me and that very sturdy bed these nice people are trading to us.”

“Really?” asked Rodney, now sounding pleased and a little smug.

“Marry me, Rodney,” said John.

“Yes,” he said. “I— yes.” Rodney stood, grabbing John’s hand to pull him up, too. “Come on.”

John let himself be tugged back down the path to the town square. “Where are we going?” he asked, grinning.

“To get married,” said Rodney, like John was being stupid on purpose. “Before you change your mind.”

“Never,” John promised.

THE END


End file.
